1925
by Lauz1
Summary: Set in 1925 - the story of a forbidden love affair between a beautiful, free spirited soul and a dashing young man trying to keep his world afloat. Very Experimental Based on series 2 Forsyte Saga
1. Preface

**Preface **

**1925 – Tree Hill, North Carolina.**

There he rested against an overthrown tree trunk with his arms crossed against his chest. He was clothed in a charcoal coloured waistcoat and pants, a white shirt and a matching charcoal tie. He was staring down at the floor but not really seeing anything – he was deep in thought. The sound of light footsteps a small twig breaking brought him out of his daze. He turned his head and looked across to the petite opening to the secluded area. There she was – the vision of beauty. He watched her carefully as she slowly made her way into the isolated woodland area.

She was determined not to look up from the ground below her feet until it was absolutely necessary. She didn't need to look up to see where she was going; this was after all their place, where they had shared those precious stolen moments together. She was dressed in a slim line green, sequined bustier dress covered by a waist length green jacket. Her long blonde curly locks were hidden in the small side-bob she was sporting and an emerald coloured, beaded headband, not the kind of headband which would keep your hair locked back into place but rather a headband shaped like the bottom of a crown; the thickest part of the headband at the forefront of her forehead, the material reaching around slimming as it joined together at the back of her head. Her slender neckline was bare – she wore no jewellery today, there wasn't need for it with such a busy outfit. She wasn't dressed in her usual day wear; she was sporting her evening clothes.

He pulled away from the tree trunk and stood up straight watching as she made her way to stand in front of him, her attention still on the floor. Inside his heart rejoiced, she had come to him. "Peyton…" He greeted her breathlessly; because that's what she did to him. Her emerald green eyes finally looked up from the floor, meeting his gaze. The corner of his mouth tilted up ever so slightly, looking into her bewitching eyes it was easy to forget the outside world, it was easy to forget the past.

"I haven't got much time, I'm shopping with Jacob and father…presents for the bridesmaids." They stood two feet apart from one another and yet the distance between them felt greater. "So, what do you want?" She asked in a detached voice, getting straight to the point.

"I had to see you," He shot back instantly.

"Why?"

"Do you love him? Really love him?" His voice rang out with desperation. Maybe he was a gluten for punishment but he needed to know. Lucas watched her carefully, analysing every movement. Her body stiffened ever so slightly and her eyes peered off into the corner. He had his answer. "Then why are you marrying him?"

"Jake's nice…" She answered back honestly; it was easier to speak to him when she wasn't looking into his sincere baby blue eyes. "He'll look after me," And she knew that he would. He had a gentle soul and had never given up on her, even when she had given no reason to hope for anything more than friendship, he waited throughout.

Lucas shook his head disbelievingly. "And what about love, Peyton? How can you go through life without love?" He closed the distance between the two of them and raised his hand to her face, stroking the side of her cheek. She still didn't look at him, but her eyes closed in response to his touch. "I still love you, Peyton…"

"I love you Lucas, so much it hurts…" Her skin burned where he touched her, she had closed her eyes to keep her tears at bay. She opened her water bound eyes and looked up into his agonised baby blues. Leaning in closer to him, she felt his nose skim the side of her cheek as his lips brushed ever so gently against hers. But he didn't kiss her, no, instead she felt him pause and pull back.

"We would be ruining too many people's lives."

She swallowed the trapped air inside of her throat and turned her head so that she didn't have to look up at him and face rejection, again. She reached inside the pocket of her beaded green jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Reaching up she touched the side of his hand which was still resting on the side of her cheek. Turning his hand over she looked down into his palm and bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from trembling. She looked up once more into his eyes which were watching her every movement. "Don't try and see me again." She pulled back from him touch and left the note in the palm of his hand. Quickly she turned on her dolly shoes and began to race towards the exit of the secluded woodland area.

"Peyton," He called out after her, watching as she turned only her head back to look at him. "You can't marry him…"

"I am marrying him," She said defiantly. She had come here today, holding onto her last thread of hope. She loved Lucas Scott, mind body and soul but he had left her, he had taken her heart captive when he had made her fall in love with him…and then he had left her, breaking her heart into a tiny million pieces along the way."And I will forget about you Lucas Scott, I swear I will." Peyton turned and walked away from him, hoping that that would be the last time she ever sawn Lucas Eugene Scott again.

Lucas looked down at the piece of paper in his head and unfolded the note. There in his hand writing was his note:

_Peyton,_

_I must see you –_

_Please meet me tomorrow in our usual place in the park._

_Lucas_


	2. Chapter One: The Party

**1. - The Party**

Brooke Penelope Davis was well known throughout the small hamlet of Tree Hill and many other county's as the fashionita of the East. Her quaint boutique was constantly a buzz, people from out of town would flock to her shop in order to purchase a one of a kind Brooke Davis – all at the tender age of eighteen. Early in the summer after a year's courtship, she married New York accountant Charles Hampshire IV. He had provided her with a large mansion on the outskirts of Tree Hill, luxury designer jewels and clothes and most importantly, her freedom. Constantly away on business meant that she was a neglected wife and like many other neglected housewives, she found comfort in the arms of a series of lovers. "Honestly, I don't know what is taking you so long." She complained, pacing around the guest bedroom in her two inch Brooke Davis one of a king heels. "The party is in full swing and I'm missing it!" Brooke cried out drastically.

"Calm down, I'm ready." Peyton walked around the French screen and stepped into view. She was dressed in a long cream coloured silk bodice dress that emphasised all of her curves. Her long blonde curly locks were pinned up and partially hidden by a cream and gold jewelled headband, with pearl loops hanging loosely from the back of the headband. Her cheeks were rosy and her lips painted ruby red. She looked down at the halter cut and raised her brow, questioningly. "My father definitely would not approve…"

Brooke patted her hands together and smiled triumphantly. "You've been living in French fashion these past two years; I hardly think their outfits are less provocative than mine." She spoke truthfully, the French were well known for their forward thinking. "Besides, the halter neck dress is contemporary fashion as is short skirts, fringed dresses. The skirts are getting shorter and the heels are getting taller!"

Peyton nodded in agreement. She had seen everything living in Paris. The women there wore practically nothing, leaving little to the imagination, their dinner conversations were often sexually explicit. She had gone to Paris to study under Amarii Bonprete; a revolutionary artist. In that time she had study various artists works, sketched and painted many landscapes and even tried her hand at sculpturing. "I think it needs something…" She walked over to the chest and drawers and opened her jewellery box. Pulling out a long gold chain, with six oversized pearls darted around the chain.

Brooke turned and walked over to the full length Victorian mirror and studied herself clearly. Her scarlet red dress was vibrant enough to stand out but next to her best friend, Peyton Sawyer she feared that she would seem small in comparison. Looking at her friend in the mirror, she couldn't help but grin. The self conscious curly haired girl who had left Tree Hill a little over two years ago had been replaced by a confident, dazzling young lady. "That's beautiful, you should definitely wear it!"

Peyton slipped the necklace over her head and let it fall into place hanging down from her neck to just above her stomach. She turned back and eyed her friend with a raised brow, "I don't think your husband would approve of your evening attire" She spoke playfully.

Brooke shrugged indifferently. "If he was half as interested in me as he is in his stupid bank, then I would have two children by now." She spoke candidly about her relationship with her husband. "Oh well, his loss is my lover's gain!" Brooke could not stifle the giggle that escaped her lips. "Come now Peyton, to the party!" She walked over to her best friend and wrapped an arm around her waist, extending her other arm.

Peyton followed Brooke's lead, wrapping an arm around her waist and extended her arm so that their hands were touching. "My father definitely would not approve of this display, it's far too disgraceful!"

Brooke grinned, "Well it's a good thing you're father isn't here!" They took several steps forward and danced to the top of the stairs.

--

Lucas Eugene Scott had been coerced into attending Brooke Davis's party by his mother and step-father. They had commented that ever since he had finished school, he had been trapped deciding what direction to take in his life. Looking around the party which was in full swing, he couldn't help but feel he didn't belong with the rich and successful. His background was plagued by the most terrible of scandals; his biological father had met, fallen in love with, impregnated and abandoned his mother before he was born. The two had never been married so it had caused an outrage within the small town. Luckily his biological father's brother stepped in and married his mother, while his biological father had gone on to marry into one of the most wealthiest families on the East Coast, as a result Lucas Scott had a step-brother who was barely a year younger than he. Of course nowadays events like that happened all of the time, to find a young unmarried expectant woman was hardly uncommon, it was just never talked about.

"Oh come on Lucas," His mother glided up to her son's side and looked up at him. "You could at least try to look as though you are enjoying yourself!" Though she knew the likelihood of that was slim to none. The party consisted of the so called royalty of Tree Hill, which included her former lover Daniel Scott, his wife Deborah and their son Nathaniel. To be truthful she didn't particularly want to be here either. She turned and glanced at the father of her child and watched him in his glory; this is what he lived for, what he had always lived for: enjoying being surrounded by incredibly wealthy.

Lucas turned and followed his mother's gaze and let out a deep sigh as he watched his biological father. The two had passed each other in the street several times, but they had never spoken to one another and he had no intention of conversing with such a vulgar man. He glanced to the side and saw his step brother, Nathaniel Scott laughing away with Brooke Davis. There were rumours circulating among the local town gossips that Brooke Davis had taken a lover and that her lover was a good looking, young man from a well respected family. As Lucas watched the two of them interact he rolled his eyes, the town gossip's may have been blind but he could see without a doubt the intimacy between the two of them. He studied them; she brushed his arm with her hand as she laughed at one of his jokes. His hand turned slightly and he rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. They were flaunting their love affair in the open and yet no-one was none the wiser. Ignorant town folk, he thought as someone collided into him.

"Oh dear…"

Lucas turned swiftly in the direction of the voice and was thrown instantly by a pair of sparkling emerald coloured eyes staring up at him. All thoughts of his step brother had been wiped from his memory, his discomfort at being at the same party as his biological father had disappeared instantly. The girl standing before him had bewitched him.

Peyton looked up from under her painted lashes and smiled up at the beautiful blonde haired boy who stood before her. She had accidentally knocked into him after too much champagne. "My apologies, I'm afraid I may have reached my limit with the champagne." She reached out her hand and held it in front of the man whom had the most dazzling face she had ever seen. "Peyton Elisabeth Sawyer," She greeted him with a smile and waited for his response…but there was nothing. "And you are…" She prompted.

Lucas was lost in a daze. It wasn't her candidacy which was somewhat unprecedented between two strangers of the opposite sex that had him transfixed him, it was the ease of how she had introduced herself to him. Lucas extended his arm and took a hold of Peyton's hand in his. An electric shock passed through him as they touched. "Lucas Scott," He introduced himself, amazed that air let alone words had actually escaped his lips.

"Scott…" She raised her brow, "A relation to Nathan?" She glanced over to Brooke and Nathaniel and sighed gently. They were hardly being discreet. "Oh dear," She turned back to Lucas Scott and the elder woman standing by his side and gently smiled at them. "Would you excuse me, my friend seems to be forgetting an oath she made a eighteen months ago…" Peyton allowed herself one more glance at those baby blues before turning on her black painted dolly heels and strolled across the large drawing room, over to her friend.

"We're leaving…"

Lucas looked across to his mother. Her face had fallen, she looked incredibly pale and in shock. He raised his brow curiously.

"We're leaving…now!" Karen turned and walked across the drawing towards her husband. She whispered into his ear before he nodded and made his excuses to the people he was conversing with. "Lucas," She called under her breath as she and Keith walked across the drawing room.

Lucas followed his mother and step father, allowing himself one last glance at the beautiful angel who had intruded into his life – she was halfway to her friend when she turned her head and looked back at him, an impish grin playing at her lips.


	3. Chapter Two: The Gallery

**2. The Gallery**

**-**

Larry Sawyer walked along the desolate wooden panelled corridor towards the auction room. As a local wealthy businessman he was afforded such luxuries of being invited to join the prestigious Tree Hill's gentlemen's club, where men would gather to share a brandy or two and discuss business. He had made good on his promise to his late wife; to ensure that their only child Peyton Elizabeth would want for nothing out of life.

"Good afternoon, Mr Sawyer." The lady behind the ticket booth handed Mr Sawyer an auction programme.

"Good afternoon," He mumbled not remembering the elderly women's name. He had been coming to these monthly auctions for as long as he could remember. He viewed it as his duty, as a collector of fine arts. Larry walked past and entered the crowded room, where the auction had just gotten underway.

"I hope you all will bid generously on behalf of this worthy charity. And without further a due, let's continue onto lot one."

As the auction was coming to an end, Larry took his attention away from his programme and stared up at the painting which was now on display. The painting of the young woman tilting her hat with a mischievous look on her face reminded him so much of his young daughter, whom had just returned from her studies in Paris. He raised his wooden cane and offered one hundred dollars for the painting only to be out bid by a young man sitting at the top table of the auction. Larry kept up his bidding, finally winning out four hundred and fifty dollars later.

"And that ladies and gentlemen concludes our charity auction."

Twenty minutes after the auction, Larry was standing by his nearly acquired painting reading through his programme once again. He wasn't a particularly social person and only ever opted to socialise with those already in his closed circle.

"She looks like a minx."

"She looks like my daughter," Larry looked up to be confronted by the young man whom had tried to outbid him on the painting.

He smiled examining the painting again "By joe, what a face. Dagar, remarkable even though it's a copy." He turned and looked and extended his hand to the gentleman. "Jacob Jagelski."

"Larry Sawyer." He eyed the young man curiously. "Why did you want her?"

"The life in her." Jacob responded honestly.

"I have an original Dagar and a few others if you wish to see those."

"Sounds excellent."

"and we now have a figure for the amount raised this afternoon." The speaker looked down at the young man, "Mr Jagelski, would you please step forward." As the young man approached the desk, the speaker returned his gaze to the room "A warm hand please for the young man who organised this whole event, Captain Jacob Jagelski"

The room erupted with applause for the young Captain.

--

Peyton Sawyer was dressed in a linen pinstriped suit which consisted of three pieces; a long jacket, with its purple velvet lapels running down past the hips; a long skirt nearly touching the floor and a decorative white shirt, lined in lace around the collar. The suit with horizontal lines on its jackets front and vertical lines on the side of jacket had been bought while she was studying art in Paris. The look was professional and yet it still seemed ahead of its time in Tree Hill. She was supposed to be networking, meeting with potential buyers but instead found herself drawn to different paintings which were on display. Peyton paused at her own; she had painted the piece while studying in Paris. It was a view of the Eiffel tower, only unlike the other landscape paintings it was completely unusual and if anyone knew her work; very distinctive.

"Beautiful, if only I could see the real thing." Brooke had walked up behind her best friend of many years and linked their arms together. She hadn't intended on coming to the gallery this afternoon but had found herself lacking inspiration to work. Her husband was still away on business and her newer designs lacked something, they just didn't seem fashionable.

"Perhaps one day," Peyton said soothing her best friend by rubbing her exposed arm gently. Peyton turned to face Brooke and raised her brow at her friends choice of fashion for the day; she was wearing an off the shoulder, low cut dress. "Brooke!" She exclaimed trying to keep her voice low. "Perhaps it's a good thing that your husband is away on business; he would have had a hernia seeing you out in public wearing a dress like that."

Brooke laughed and pulled on Peyton's arm to stroll around the gallery, knowing full well that the other patrons of the gallery were watching the two of them, whispering about them. "Perhaps it will give him an incentive to come home a little more often." She pretended not to miss her husband's constant absence, but she did. Not even her affair with the dark haired Scott boy could keep her from being lonely. "Besides darling, I'm a designer and if I'm not making a statement about what I'm wearing then I'm not being very professional." She sighed, "Besides aren't you tired of conforming to what society thinks you should wear, how you should act?" Brooke paused noticing a blonde haired, blue eyed young man staring in their direction. "I think someone has an admirer." Brooke playfully nudged her best friend.

"What?" Peyton asked confused. She turned her attention to where Brooke's attention was so obviously resting. She recognised the eyes but she couldn't place the face or even think of his name. Peyton leaned in closer and whispered to her friend's ear, "Another one of your lovers?"

Brooke laughed loudly, a little too loudly. "Oh no," Brooke shook her head. While she found Lucas Scott very attractive, he had far too much scandal around him to even consider him as a lover. "Besides, I don't think he's admiring me…which should actually annoy me," She continued rambling to herself. "And he's coming over here…"

Lucas had entered the gallery knowing full well that Peyton Sawyer would be inside. He had heard through the local gossip that she was going to be showcasing the majority of her work. Ever since Brooke Davis's party he hadn't been able to escape the beautiful blonde curly haired girl, her green eyes had been haunting his dreams and he had found himself thinking of her while attempting to write his novel. "Good afternoon, Brooke." Again, he found himself amazed that he was capable of speech while in the presence of her.

"Good afternoon, Lucas." Brooke grinned and looked back and forth between the two beautiful blondes. "This is my dearest and oldest friend, Peyton Sawyer." She was sure the two of them had met while they were youngsters but it was the least she could do, to act as match maker for the doe eyed boy. "She's just returned from Paris, don't ya know." Brooke looked out of the corner of her eye trying to find an escape. "Oh, would you excuse me, I've just seen someone I haven't seen in forever." Brooke let go of Peyton's arm and strolled across the gallery.

"We've met?" Peyton asked second guessing herself. "Yes, Brooke's party the other night." Suddenly placing his blue eyes and pretty face, "The other Scott boy…" She paused quickly trying to correct herself, thinking back trying to remember his name. "I'm sorry that was rude, but I was under the influence of champagne and the night is somewhat of a haze." A smile played at her lips as she remembered tibets of the night, "Lucas," She extended her hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you again."

He hadn't been offended but rather impressed that she had remembered him at all, their introduction had been short but sweet. Extending his hand, he took her small hand in his and shook it gently. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Peyton." He ignored the informalities of using titles, for some reason he figured she would have complained being called Miss Sawyer. "It's beautiful" He blurted out staring into her exquisite emerald coloured eyes.

"I beg your pardon?" Peyton asked confused. He was staring at her as though she were the only person in the world and yet he had claimed that it was beautiful. Sure, he wouldn't have said that she was beautiful, they barely knew each other for being so intimate and yet she found herself disappointed that he hadn't said 'you're.'

"Your painting, it's beautiful," He said correcting himself. Lucas turned and looked over at the slightly strange paining of the Eiffel tower.

"And how do you know it's mine?" Peyton asked, the smile still playing at her lips.

"It's original." He turned and gestured towards the rest of the gallery. "Some may find these stunning works of art, but they conform to societies idea of what art should be." Lucas turned and looked down at Peyton, "Yours is completely different. The way you've blended the colours, the way you've captured the landscape…it's completely original and that's why it's beautiful."

Peyton laughed and gently pulled on his arm so that he would stroll around the gallery with her. "Lucas Scott, it most definitely is a pleasure to meet you."


End file.
